


Stress Headache

by pikohan



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-04
Updated: 2013-06-04
Packaged: 2017-12-13 22:46:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/829742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pikohan/pseuds/pikohan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Squalo helps Xanxus with his headache and simultaneously contemplates their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stress Headache

Squalo stepped into the room and closed the door behind him with a sigh. Walking into Xanxus’ office was always a risk: get yelled at, something thrown at him, oftentimes both. Every now and then, though, silence would greet him. Times like that Xanxus would be sitting back in his chair, fighting a stress migraine. Squalo observed the still form of his boss; his body slumped down his chair, eyes hidden behind a hand resting on the chair’s armrest. His breathing was not quite slow enough to denote sleep, but it did tell Squalo the leader of the Varia had been in that position for a while.

He stepped to Xanxus’ side of the desk to look at the piles of paperwork, organizing them as he went. It was almost second nature with how often he organizes papers because Xanxus was too much of a lazy bastard to be troubled with it himself. Once the desk was in order, he moved to the side of the room where he kept Xanxus’ drinks and grabbed a bottle of water. Walking back to Xanxus’ side, he uncapped the bottle and set it down in front of him.

“Vooooiii, drink some of that water before your head explodes, stupid.” He made sure to keep his voice low, headaches were a bitch enough without the extra irritation of loud noises to add to that. Plus, Xanxus would be less likely to listen to him if he were irritating.

“Don’t tell me what to do, fucking shark.” Despite his words, Squalo watched Xanxus grab the bottle and drink. “Fucking paperwork, pain in my ass.”

Squalo snorted and tossed the empty bottle into the trash bin. “Taking breaks would help keep the headaches down.” He sat himself down on his boss’ lap—a knee on the outsides of Xanxus’ thighs—and covered Xanxus’ eyes with his right hand. Thumb and long finger on each side of Xanxus’ temple, Squalo slowly rubbed in circles while pulling some of his flames to where his fingers touched Xanxus. The flames of Rain were calming—meant to cancel out attacks by weakening them with tranquil waves. Squalo was using them to still his boss’ headache as he usually did when these situations appeared.

Squalo felt the tense muscles of his boss slowly relax as the flames worked. With the relaxing of muscles, Xanxus slowly leaned back in his chair, eyes closed. Minutes later, Xanxus let out a deep breathe and Squalo moved his hands to loosen the other man’s tie. With his left hand he unbuttoned the white shirt underneath while his right moved to start massaging the back of Xanxus’ neck. When the shirt was completely unbuttoned, Squalo eased both hands under the collar to better access the muscular shoulders of his boss. Digging in with his fingers, the long-haired man focused on relaxing the tense muscles of his boss.

These times were peaceful for the both of them—as peaceful as two angry assassins in charge of the Varia could get—and allowed them to take a much needed rest from the daily stress in their lives. Rest was rare for the boss and his right hand when in charge of the most elite assassination squad in the world. Relaxation happened less frequently and was fully appreciated when those small, and usually short, moments came.

Squalo always had something to do that prevented him from taking breaks that most people needed. From overseeing everyone’s training to paperwork, completing missions to making sure no one in the Varia killed each other, making sure the kitchens made Xanxus’ food correctly to taking care of any problems that would arise to his own training; Squalo had precious little time in between he used for power naps ensuring he operate at premium cognition at all times. It was his job to make sure the Varia ran smoothly—as smoothly as it could be with a mansion full of highly skilled and bloody-thirsty assassins—and that nothing menial reached the ears of Xanxus who had much more important things to be worried about.

Xanxus grunted when Squalo found a particularly nasty knot. He focused on that area until the muscles relaxed before moving on. Soon enough, the older man was fully relaxed against his chair. He watched Xanxus open his eyes and waited for a nonverbal cue for Squalo’s next move. Squalo knew his boss; new his quirks, his likes—few as they were—and dislikes—a list that would probably reach the moon and back tenfold with that shitstain Sawada being at the very top (though they would be more appropriately referred to as ‘shit Xanxus tolerates’ and ‘unworthy of Xanxus’). Squalo took pride in his ability to read his boss, he was proud of his ability to know when Xanxus needed a drink, when to treat a matter delicately and when to get straight to the point, when he needed to relieve tension, and what kind of meat he would want for dinner.

So when Xanxus tugged his long hair, Squalo knew what his boss wanted.

Squalo had done a great many things in the Varia, some stranger than others. Sex with Xanxus was something not necessarily on the stranger side of things. It started after they completed a particularly adrenaline-inducing mission; they were traveling back home when Xanxus suddenly pulled him aside and kissed him. Though Squalo felt it was less a kiss and more Xanxus trying to eat him. Teeth clashed as Squalo ‘kissed’ back just as roughly and when Xanxus pushed him against a wall, Squalo responded by pulling his boss against him and biting the man’s cheek. Xanxus made a low, guttural sound that Squalo both heard and felt. The hair on his arms stood and his body shivered in response and he dug his fingers in Xanxus’ arms, yanking the older man as close to him as possible.

Xanxus had a very powerful presence, everything he did—every movement, every action—was done with a purpose and all of the fire within him. It was that fire that drew Squalo to him at that party when they were teenagers; and it was that fire that spurred Squalo to pledge his loyalty to someone who would become someone great. Squalo believed Xanxus had in him the power to achieve anything. It would only make sense for Xanxus to be just as powerful when it came to sex. Squalo felt an adrenaline similar to that of fighting in the activity—all of the hair-raising, goosebump-inducing, heart-pounding excitement that came with fighting a strong opponent. That the sex was fantastic was an added bonus.

At first it was rough, often Xanxus would finish and roll onto his back, staring at the ceiling as Squalo jerking himself to completion. There were times Squalo felt Xanxus’ eyes on him as he moved. As time went on and their trysts became more frequent, Xanxus changed. He went from just taking pleasure to sharing it. He started touching Squalo in the middle of sex, adding caresses and teases in with his biting and shoving. In response, Squalo eased up on his fighting back—but only a little—and stopped yanking Xanxus’ hair as much (Xanxus hated having his hair pulled. Squalo would be more disgruntled about the hypocrisy of Xanxus yanking his long hair—and enjoying it, too!—if he didn’t get as much a thrill out of it). With that, something already pleasurable enough for both parties became even more enjoyable and gratifying. Squalo found that the increase of attention Xanxus paid to his body during intercourse had relaxed him even more. Xanxus took time to stimulate his prostate, bringing him even higher and drawing his orgasms out longer.

Xanxus, too, was more satisfied after their couplings and would often doze off where he lay. Squalo grumbled about having to clean up, sometimes getting his face shoved in a pillow to shit him up if Xanxus was awake enough. Sometimes, though, after Squalo cleaned up, Xanxus would comment on how domestic they were acting. Squalo wondered just how two of the deadliest assassins in the mafia world could be anywhere near domestic but supposed how they were would be as domestic as two people like them could ever be.

‘Maybe we’re getting soft in our old age’, he would comment.

A laugh, ‘Maybe we are.’

It was strange and interesting in retrospect, he would think when he had a spare moment before drifting off on one of his naps. He wondered about their relationship progressing to a stable and loving relationship. Stable and loving for them, anyhow. Then again, he had already pledged his life and loyalty to Xanxus, what was his body and love but an unexpected bonus? And as angry a person Xanxus was, he was also very possessive. After finding out he had been lied to and wasn’t actually Timoteo’s blood son, he held his possessions close to him. Not because he valued them or that they had any sentimental value, but because without what he deemed as his, Xanxus did not know who he was. He went from being Xanxus, son of the Vongola’s Ninth to just Xanxus. It was a confusing time for Xanxus who was so sure of himself. But then Squalo had believed in him, said he could lead and be one of the greatest. Squalo told Xanxus to lead the Varia and suddenly Xanxus was someone again. He had the Varia, he had men willing to do whatever he said out of loyalty. Best of all, he had Squalo.

Scoffing to himself, Squalo wondered if he was romanticizing it all. Xanxus was Xanxus. He did what he wanted and damn the consequences (oftentimes that would cause enough trouble for Squalo to go off in a rage and shake the walls of the Varia mansion with his yelling and charge into Xanxus’ office in a rage resulting in a very long and satisfying fight). Squalo knew Xanxus, had helped him regain his sense of self and served him well.

Because of his loyalty—or love, Squalo really did not know where one ended and the other started (maybe a lot of both? or maybe his loyalty grew to love? eh, whatever)—Squalo wanted to make sure Xanxus would do his best at all times, and if that included giving his boss a Rain-induced massage or sex or both to reduce tension headaches and get him going, then he was glad to do so.

Leaning forward, Squalo ran his hands through Xanxus’ hair, massaging the scalp as he went. Xanxus hated his hair getting tugged, but he thoroughly enjoyed when Squalo would run his hands through—damn picky weirdo. While he did that, he also tilted his head to meet with Xanxus in a lazy kiss. It started lazy, anyhow. After a moment or two, Xanxus started moving against him, aggressively taking control of the kiss, grabbing Squalo’s ass with one hand and unbuttoning Squalo’s uniform with the other. Squalo grunted at the sudden aggression and reached to undo both their belts and pants. Wiggling up close enough to be able to hold the both of them in his hand, he started rubbing them together, shivering at the intimacy of their most sensitive parts rubbing together. He felt Xanxus still for a moment and let out a low groan before the man moved faster. Squalo’s jacket was opened and Xanxus moved to nibble anywhere and everywhere he could reach, both hands kneading Squalo’s ass.

Squalo closed his eyes at the stimulation from his own hand as well as Xanxus’; resting his forehead on the man’s shoulder, he hummed in contentment when those hands massaged their way up his back, coaxing the muscles to pliancy. When Xanxus leaned forward, Squalo wrapped his free arm around Xanxus to keep from falling off his lap. He heard one of the drawers open and Xanxus moving things aside with one hand—looking for lube, he thought idly. Squalo turned his head to bite Xanxus’ shoulder and twisted his hand just so.

“Fuck!” Xanxus jerked his hips up into Squalo’s hand, resting his head on Squalo’s shoulder a moment before resuming his search, “Damn impatient shark, hold on”

Squalo grinned and gave the flesh between his teeth a tug—light enough that it would not hurt, but enough to remind Xanxus that Squalo was just as deadly and just as feared and just as strong as Xanxus himself and would fight him if and when he wanted—before letting it go. “You’re taking too long; did you lose it?” He snickered.

Xanxus slid closer to the edge of the chair and leaned over more, using both hands to search. “I’ll drop you on your head.” He warned.

“And I’ll kick your face in, fucker.” Squalo accompanied his reply with a long lick up Xanxus’ neck and a slow grind of his hips into his boss’—the hand previously jerking them off had to be moved around Xanxus to make sure Squalo actually did not fall on his head during the exchange.

Finally finding what he was looking for—took long enough, Squalo had better uses for his hands— Xanxus leaned back against his chair, pinching Squalo’s cheek hard. “Fucking trash, why do I even bother.”

Before Xanxus could pull the hand back, Squalo turned his head and bit the offending fingers—hard enough to hurt this time—and relished the pained eye-twitch. Signature grin in place, he slipped off his boss’ lap to discard his clothes before climbing back on. “No one can handle your Fire” he took the bottle and squeezed some in the scarred hand, “You’d burn the shits right up.” Pulling his hair over his shoulder and setting the bottle on top of the desk for easy access, he rolled his hips again into Xanxus and kissed him.

Xanxus made a sound that may have been a scoff and then made sure Squalo was as relaxed and necessary before he started preparing him. Slowly and gently did Xanxus prepare him, taking a hold of them and rubbing them together with his free hand. Squalo grunted, rested his head on his boss’ shoulder again, and resumed his nibble-licks.

“Fucking hair is everywhere.” Xanxus complained, flicking some of the long strands away.

Squalo knew, however much the Varia boss would complain, Xanxus loved his hair. Years ago, after they broke Xanxus out of the ice, he would catch Xanxus staring at it as he walked by. At first it was with disbelief—he had spent the last 8 years frozen after all, it had to have been surreal to see how things have changed—and incredulity, but slowly turned into hidden awe and happiness (apparently he was skeptical about Squalo’s promise), and then finally into appreciation and hunger. It was Squalo’s physical proof of his servitude to Xanxus—proof Xanxus still owned him. At the same time, it was also a reminder that Squalo could leave at any time, should he feel the need. With one flick of his sword, he would cut off the lengthy hair and be free from Xanxus. After all, Xanxus would never be the boss of the Vongola; and as a result, Squalo’s oath was now void.

But Squalo would follow Xanxus to death and beyond, they both knew it. Xanxus may never lead the Vongola, but he lead the Varia and he lead them exactly as Squalo knew he would. Fire and passion and will and intelligence and everything that was just Xanxus had molded a great group of elite assassins into the group of elite assassins. And Squalo loved him and would destroy countries for him and would serve him because Xanxus owned him.

Though it was hardly one-sided. Xanxus owned Squalo because Squalo allowed himself to be owned by Xanxus. He was his own man and anyone who dared tell him what to do would find themselves at the wrong end of his sword—not that anyone would, the world had known for years how strong Squalo was after all. The fact he gave himself to another person in servitude further proved his loyalty and belief in that person. He would follow Xanxus to the end of his days, and he knew Xanxus would keep him close for the rest of their lives.

‘Till death do they part.

Squalo laughed and then Xanxus moved his fingers just right and he collapsed onto the man with a moan. Xanxus groaned when that caused their erections to grind together, Squalo belatedly realized Xanxus had moved the hand that was stroking them to his hip. He started rolling his hips, impatient and ready.

“The fuck is so funny?” Xanxus reached for the bottle again.

Squalo ground his hips forward again, biting along the strong jaw in front of him. “Just thinking.” He wiggled when Xanxus moved him, making things difficult just because—earning a pinch in the process—and gasped when Xanxus licked all the way up his neck and then blew gently, a kink they discovered recently. “We’re fucked up.” At Xanxus’ raised eyebrow he continued, “Deranged shitheads. I don’t even know how the fuck we’re so domestic and shit.”

A snort, “Cause we’re deranged shitheads. Even we don’t expect half the shit we do.” Xanxus moved Squalo up and slowly sank into him. “We might as well be fucking married with one of those dogs or whatever the fuck it’s supposed to be.”

Squalo sniggered and wiggled down as far as he was able, “A dog wouldn’t survive here. I’d make gedörrtes hundefleisch out of the annoying shit." He moved, shuddering when he felt Xanxus rub against that spot just right. He draped his arms over Xanxus’ shoulders and laid his body flush against the older man, relishing the heat that radiated from the man.

It was the Flame that made the body run warmer than normal, Squalo believed. That or his body was compensating somehow for the eight years of being frozen. Either way, as a person who is easily cold, Squalo appreciated how much warmer his boss was naturally.

“You don’t even know how to make that.” Xanxus ran his hands down Squalo’s sides and rested on his hips, pulling him down and jerking his own up.

Squalo let out a choked gasp at the sudden move and he arched back. He allowed Xanxus to quicken the pace and moved his body to meet the other. His head rolled back at the pleasure and his fingers dug into the shoulders in front of him. He felt a hand grab his ass and the warm puffs of air at his neck made him writhe; but it was the hand in his hair—grabbing a fist-full of hair and tugged his head just right—that had him dragging his nails down and toes to curl. That combined with Xanxus hitting that spot made it so easy to forget to breathe and he found himself taking large gasps of air between his panting and pleasured groans.

He felt his head be tugged to the side and when Xanxus bit his neck, just under his ear, he put a hand on the man’s head, occasionally tugged the man’s hair. When he accidentally pulled too hard, he felt Xanxus bite hard and thrust up simultaneously, causing a breathy laugh to come out.

Whether it was because Xanxus was incredibly good, Squalo incredibly receptive, or an incredible combination of the two that made the sex so great Squalo honestly could not care less—as long as it continued, he would be happier than the fucking cheshire cat.

The hand on his ass moved down to grip his thigh and then up to settle on his side, fingers digging in almost painfully. Squalo grunted in response and probably would have said something if he was not otherwise occupied. Quickening his pace, he felt Xanxus thrust deeper, hitting those nerves, and causing his body to seize. Muscles tensing—fingers digging, abdomen and thighs clenching, toes curling—and breath halting for one, two, three beats before everything snapped in a release powerful enough to lose his senses.

When he found himself aware of his surroundings he realized he had collapsed on Xanxus, his hair falling over them both. The gentle tugs at his scalp told him Xanxus was brushing his hand through his hair, brushing through whatever tangle may have occurred during their activities. Moving was especially difficult just after sex and Squalo would usually take that time to regulate his breathing and gather enough strength to move. He sat there, slumped over his boss, and briefly wondered at the chemicals in his brain working to make him feel so content.

“It can’t be that hard,” he decided to continue the conversation they had before things got too heated, “I’d improvise.”

He heard Xanxus grunt in response and allowed his thoughts to wander. As soon as he was able to get his limbs working correctly, he needed to go to the kitchen and make sure dinner was ready. Before coming to his boss’ office, he stopped at the kitchens and told the staff to prepare bistecca alla florentina for Xanxus’ dinner. He hoped it would be done by the time he went back.

“A cat would probably survive better here,” he muttered, wiggling his fingers and toes to test his movement. “A big one, like those Savannah F1 cats.” Gently extracting himself from Xanxus’ lap, he slowly went about picking up his clothes. Grimacing, he decided a quick shower before going back to the kitchens would probably be a good idea.

“Bester might eat it.” He heard Xanxus shuffling to get himself in order as well. “Or maybe it’ll be good and destroy Lussuria’s god-awful wardrobe and piss on Levi.” 

Squalo laughed at the thought—a giant cat antagonizing the Varia for fun. That would sure be interesting.

**Author's Note:**

> The Varia don't get nearly enough screen time, in my opinion.


End file.
